


Two skulls on a shelf

by killerweasel



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're never lonely when you have a skull to talk to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two skulls on a shelf

Title: Two skulls on a shelf  
Fandom: _Sherlock_  
Characters: John Watson, Mycroft Holmes  
Word Count: 640  
Rating: G  
Warnings: mention of chracter death  
A/N: AU after _203 The Reichenbach Fall_

There were two skulls grinning at John from the mantel whenever he happened to glance in that direction. He wasn’t quite used to the second, mainly because of who it came from. Sometimes, late at night, when he couldn’t sleep, he found himself wandering the flat. He always ended up in front of the second skull. He’d talked to it a couple of times, which made him feel foolish, but sometimes talking helped. Besides, he never got the chance to say the things he really wanted to say to the man when he was alive.

From the front, it looked like a normal, human skull. It could have come from anyone. If one was to peer at the top though, they’d notice parts of it had been carefully pieced back together again and meticulously repaired. There was still a piece missing, but that tends to happen when a bullet goes through flesh and bone.

The second skull used to belong to the world’s only consulting criminal. Now it belonged to John, given to him by Mycroft. Something about some sort of deal Mycroft had come to with Moriarty in the event of his death. John had been too stunned at the time to listen to Mycroft was saying. That tended to happen when someone has presented you with the skull of your enemy. An enemy, who almost three years ago, caused your best friend jump from a roof.

John remembered asking ‘why me’ because the entire situation didn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. Mycroft had raised an eyebrow, set the skull in John’s hands, and walked out the door, leaving John bewildered and confused. He’d almost dropped the skull when the door shut. Then he took a couple of deep breaths and focused on what he was holding. Moriarty would have wanted Sherlock to have it and since he had also supposedly shuffled off his own mortal coil, John was the only one left.

Except… John knew that Sherlock wasn’t dead. If Sherlock were gone, there’d be three skulls sitting on that shelf, not just two. They’d had a very odd conversation once after a case and Sherlock had asked John if he could have his skull after he died so he’d still have someone semi-intelligent to talk to. John had laughed it off, saying he’d do it, but only if Sherlock agreed to do the same thing should he die first. John hadn’t really thought of it again after that.

Confirmation of Sherlock still being among the living came about a week before Moriarty’s skull had come into his possession. A text, sent from an unknown number, had popped up on his phone in the wee hours of the morning. It was only a single word, but John knew exactly who it was from. It said ‘soon’. The word had made him feeling completely discombobulated. He’d wished and hoped for so long that it had all been some sort of trick and to finally find out it was, he didn’t know how to feel.

But after the text came, John’s world seemed a little brighter. The shadows which surrounded him on a daily basis faded away. John went on a massive cleaning spree, getting the flat back into shape. He didn’t know how far away ‘soon’ would be, so he wanted to make sure everything looked fine before it happened.

About a month later, John came home from grocery shopping to find a much thinner Sherlock standing in front of the fireplace having a chat with Moriarty’s skull. John stood there for a moment, not wanting to interrupt. Sherlock turned, gave him a small smile, and continued his conversation. John shook his head with a sigh and went to put the food away. To anyone else, this situation would seem weird. To John, it was normal.


End file.
